


Little Talks

by cerysemeryse16



Category: Everyman HYBRID, MLAnderson0, Slender Man Mythos, Slenderverse - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Dimension, EMH - Freeform, F/M, M/M, MLA0, Multi, Short, Slendervlog, sv
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-03
Updated: 2015-04-03
Packaged: 2018-03-21 00:00:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3669927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cerysemeryse16/pseuds/cerysemeryse16
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Patch is my version of Fem!Patrick. Just a little exchange between my favorite mysterious entities. Takes place on the pier at the end of 78of76.avi from EMH. Enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Talks

Patch sat all alone at the pier and breathed in the sickeningly salty air. She kicked her feet rhythmically over the edge; something so childish she was certain she would never do. She presumed it was because Michael was a child. It had rubbed off on her psyche over the years. Silly boy.  
It was then that the energy around her shifted. The presence that had been there watching her for a while moved. She kept her eyes out at sea, but the labored groan as he sat beside her indicated his identity.  
“What are you doing here, kid?”  
“Thinking. It’s easy to hide out here and get some time to think, for once.”  
HABIT clasped his hands. “Yeah.” Laughed a little. “I don’t have time for that anymore.”  
“Well, if you’d stop going around and… doing what you do…”  
He didn’t respond as Patch trailed off.  
She closed her eyes, listening to the crash of the waves against the wooden posts far below them. Took the time to hear the pattern of her quick breath, and HABIT’s long, gentle sighs. How could he keep so calm?  
“My problem is I’m always sorry. From the very beginning, I was sorry,” she finally said. “I was a late bloomer as it was, but what made it worse was… the regret.”  
HABIT still said nothing.  
“Entities aren’t supposed to be this way. They’re supposed to be strong and self-confident… never forgiving or emotional.”  
She wiped a tear furiously from her cheek with her jacket sleeve. The leather’s soft texture was comforting.  
“He’s gotten to me.”  
“You never were the most stoic type, were you?” HABIT asked, but it was rhetorical, obviously. “Not the most careful, either.”  
“You’ve known me long enough to tell that I can be careful if I need to be. It’s not easy, finding places like this. Running around all of existence is difficult too, right? You should know that most of all.” The way she said it wasn’t resentful, it was matter-of-fact. She hated being called weak, even though she knew that she was.  
“You’re just soft, is all. And I don’t pity you,” HABIT’s tone was unforgiving.  
“You never did.”  
“I did... sometimes. But now there’s bigger things to do, kid. Bigger stages with bigger audiences.”  
She hated to admit it, but she loved it when he called her ‘kid’. It made her feel more personal, more lowly. The way she felt she deserved. She loved the way he said it, too. His gravelly quality and the clear tri-tone sound made her shiver, always. She shivered then, on the cool pier where the ocean wind blew bitingly on her face.  
“I know.”  
The pier was dark. No lights on, even though they could technically be turned on somehow. Patch never wanted the light, though. She realized that she came here more often than not. Or someplace like this; where she could sit and mull over how weak she was. Always in the dark, always alone. But not this time.  
“Why are you here?” she asked him.  
“I got a break for a few hours, or whatever they call them.”  
Time was meaningless in all dimensions, no matter how humans may had tried to form a rhyme or reason to their disgusting existence.  
“I hate them. Every last one.” She turned to HABIT for the first time in their exchange.  
“If you hated them, you wouldn’t want to protect them so much.” He turned his head toward her, but she couldn’t yet see his visage... just a familiar outline in the dark. Even with his different vessels, she could sense him. She could pick up on his characteristic confidence and hatred. And occasionally, she could feel his comfort when she got into her moods.  
“I’m weak.”  
“You are.”  
There. She could see him, now that her eyes had adjusted. The face was hardened in a strange scowl that combined hundreds of emotions that humans had yet to comprehend. But most of all, he looked confused. She could feel her own face holding no expression, but the tears welled up and the lump in her throat blossomed when she heard him say the words.  
“Yes. You are weak,” he stated. “You’re weak and you don’t know how to do your job. All you do is run, Patch. Run all over this lifetime from something that can’t truly hurt you. Something is different. You’re not telling me.” He leaned closer. “Why aren’t you telling me?”  
The other entity knew well and good that when HABIT didn’t get what he wanted, there was nothing that could stop him from committing atrocities; it didn’t matter who he wanted.  
“It’s an alibi,” she confessed. “But that’s all I’m allowed to say. It ruins everything if I tell you, HABIT.”  
“Then where is he?” He had begun to raise his voice.  
“Why don’t you ask Shaun?” She told him. She stared him down as he searched for an answer.  
“I can’t,” he said.  
“Then that’s your problem, isn’t it?”  
He backed away from me.  
“Yeah, you’re weak. Frail. Even after all these years, it hasn’t changed.”  
Patch brushed some hair from her face. “That’s nice. Fuck off now, won’t you?”  
She heard him stomping away in fury. It was funny that he dealt with her after so much time and didn’t bother harming her. Maybe he was just too patient. Maybe he did care.  
Maybe he didn’t.


End file.
